


Christmas Music/Movies "Wishlist"

by Bandersnatch91



Series: 25 Days of Fic [25]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 25 Days of Fic, Boys Kissing, Chistmas Music, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Post Season 2, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:09:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandersnatch91/pseuds/Bandersnatch91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is spending Christmas alone after Sherlock's death, questions cannot be answered and John feels alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Music/Movies "Wishlist"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winterssheild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterssheild/gifts).



> Okay little depressing, but I made it a happy ending (I hope). I took this prompt rather seriously after listening to The Ready Set "Wishlist", and felt it would be perfect for this fic for the prompt Christmas Music on 25 Days of Fic challenge, hopefully it isn't too depressing. This takes place right after Season 2 after Sherlock 'offs' himself to save his loved ones.
> 
> Read and enjoy!

 

  
_"Oh, did you ever think I'd come home?  
I couldn't spend this night alone  
'Cause you're number one on my wishlist, baby"_

 

  
  
**-Christmas Music/Movies-  
**

John stepped out of the cab that dropped him off at his flat. After paying the cabby he ran a hand through his hair closing the door behind him and headed upstairs to his flat. He paid no heed to Mrs. Hudson giving her a brief wave as he sauntered up to his home that resided upstairs.

He started the fire his eyes turning to the door almost expecting Sherlock to come bursting through the door. He sighed grumbling to himself incoherently and moved to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.

He leaned against the counter waiting for the kettle to whistle. He sighed once again thinking about the moment he had spent in the graveyard. It was hard these past months to move on and continue living without Sherlock by his side. It was always hard to see that gravestone that marked Sherlock’s life and death.

He had spent a vast amount of time lately at Sherlock’s headstone, and this time around he had spent time cleaning the snow off the stone, the only act of kindness that he could give to his best friend.

Sherlock had mentioned once that he was his best friend, but how could he still consider him his best friend when he just offed himself off the roof of a building. He grumbled to himself more on the thought of what actually happened that day, and like all those previous times before he had yet to come up with an accurate answer.

His eyes closed tightly as he made a small noise and chocked back a sob. Why had Sherlock done it? He had so many more cases to solve, and so many more options than just to off himself. As if no one cared. Well, he had cared dam it! It wasn’t fair to just shove him into someone else’s life and to just drop out of it so suddenly.

John hadn’t realized he had closed his eyes and neither did he notice when he had started crying. He huffed wiping his eyes as the kettle whistled loudly, and he sent himself into pouring the hot water into his awaiting tea cup and steeped the tea back in it.

It was the mechanics of things that made John survive this long after Sherlock’s demise, and he had to continue moving on for the both of them, hadn’t he? Silently he cursed the nuisance that was Sherlock and decided in a rather fit of rage that he was done brooding over Sherlock and that he himself would move on.

He grabbed his cup of tea and headed to the sitting room. There he sat staring at the fire sipping his tea cup and wondered how many more appointments he would have at the doctor’s office after the Christmas season.

Christmas, that time of year that could make one feel so loved and enveloped with one’s company, or it could make one feel isolated and lonesome. This year it made him feel the latter of those two options and he ultimately despised it.

He spent quite a bit of time staring into the fire even after it had turned to ember and slowly died. It was after his last cup of tea that he had decided to turn in for the night. Moving to the curtains he went to close them and a peculiar thing, if asked in the future why he had done it he wouldn’t be able to say for sure, but something rather made him look and the slight thought of “Baby its cold outside” came to mind.

There standing in the middle of the street wearing his signature jacket, and scarf stood Sherlock, standing along in the sleeping street. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, upon opening them he still saw the lone figure of Sherlock standing in the middle of the street. His heart jolted and in a rush he took the time only to pull his shoes and winter coat on, and dashed out of the room and down stairs as if hell was chasing close behind.

Upon reaching the front door he flung it open. There still standing there with his head held high and a crooked grin to join him stood Sherlock. John was frozen in place not believing what it was that he was seeing but he couldn’t care if he was imagining things, but just to make sure he had to know if Sherlock was real. “Sherlock, is that you?” He shouted out into the street, catching Mrs. Hudson’s attention as she herself stepped out of her own flat in nothing but pajamas.

“John who are you talking to-“her voice stopped in its tracks and John knew then that Sherlock was real, that he had to be. John dashed out of the door frame and ran, he had intended to hug him, kiss him perhaps, swear his undying love but instead his fist flung back in rage and he hit Sherlock dead in the jaw.

“Bollocks! How dare you make us believe you died! Do you know how upset everyone’s been? How upset I’ve been. How dare you!” John shouted his eyes were tight as he pulled back his hand to watch Sherlock grasp at his now wounded jaw still shocked at the how John had reacted, or perhaps he knew it would happen and the expression was for John’s benefit. “Say something you!” John growled after bantering off on how worried and upset he had been.

Sherlock stood up and smiled still and tilted his head in childish enjoyment. “There are reasons for everything John, though to avoid a scene we should probably head inside.”

“Why now?” John muttered. “If you could have shown face at any time, why now? Why did you choose now at Christmas Eve? Why?”

Sherlock shrugged and as if it was the easiest answer in the world he simply replied. “The reason would be, you John were first on my wish list.” He grinned spouting off stupid Christmas toned answers and that wasn’t enough for John.

He grabbed Sherlock to him and kissed him roughly. “You’ll explain everything later.”

Sherlock nodded once. “Yes, of course.” With that Sherlock pulled John into a tight hug, releasing him and grinned up at Mrs. Hudson. “Make us some tea, Mrs. Hudson; I feel that tonight’s going to be a long night.”

Mrs. Hudson could only press a hand to her lips in surprise as John and Sherlock headed up the stairs as if Sherlock hadn’t feigned his death at all, and that he had been there all along. She called back after shutting the front door. “I’m you landlady dear, not your housekeeper.” As if it was the most natural thing in the world.

 

 

**-End-**

**Author's Note:**

> I am rather sad that I finished this challenge, but at the same time I am glad to see it finished. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Happy Holidays


End file.
